“Well, God Knows My Heart”

A man steals a loaf of bread to feed himself or his starving family.

This is a scenario sometimes used to spark a discussion on the nature of morality. Its purpose is to get us thinking about motive, and how it should shape our view of people who do wrong, in this case, a “well-intentioned” thief. 

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m a whole lot more likely to sympathize with someone stealing to survive than with someone stealing to get rich. Even the Bible acknowledges this in Proverbs 6:30: “People do not despise a thief if he steals to satisfy himself when he is starving.”

But how I feel about it—or even how a whole community may feel about it—is beside the point if we’re trying to look at things biblically. 

A different view

After introducing the starving thief, the next verse adds: “Yet when [the thief] is found, he must restore sevenfold; he may have to give up all the substance of his house” (verse 31). 

That should tell us something about how God sees things. 

Yes, circumstances sometimes explain why people act the way they do. And it’s true—almost universally, people will show more leniency and understanding toward someone who does wrong but has “a good reason.” But in God’s eyes, sin is still sin. And sin must be dealt with.

Because consequences help curb destructive behavior. Nip sin in the bud and you have a shot at preserving peace and order—protecting individuals and communities from the long-term harm sin brings. 

That was once a more widely accepted viewpoint. But today things have shifted. The modern ethic increasingly says that intentions are everything. Never mind the action itself or the outcome—if the intention is good, then surely God understands. 

It’s the “well, God knows my heart” approach.

But this mindset is spiritually dangerous—because sin is never the right way or the only way to deal with a problem.

In an effort to show more compassion, our culture has blurred the lines between right and wrong. And now when we suffer the consequences of moral compromise, we seem unable—or unwilling—to trace those consequences back to their source:

The fact that God’s laws were violated.

The heart of the matter

Some people use “God knows my heart” flippantly. It’s something they say just before plowing ahead without seriously considering the importance of obedience. It becomes a catch-all excuse to avoid self-examination or correction.

Others are more sincere using it. They’ve counted the cost of obedience, and they’ve decided it’s either too high or unnecessary. They may know what God asks of them, but they also genuinely believe God is merciful—and wouldn’t want His people to suffer or draw unwanted attention. So they make the call: “God sees that I mean well. That should be enough.”

And from there, the logic can spread. Before long, we can end up rationalizing disobedience in multiple areas—picking which commandments work for us and discarding the ones that don’t.

“If we’re already acting like we’re married, then what’s the point of waiting? God knows we love each other—and isn’t love what matters most? God knows my heart.”

I’m not saying intentions don’t matter, and I’m not disputing that God knows our hearts—He absolutely does (Acts 1:24). But here are the real questions we all should ask: What do our hearts reveal about us when we toss aside God’s instructions in favor of doing what we want? What does God actually see in us when we prioritize our comfort and convenience over His laws? 

We can marshal an army of reasons to defend our disobedience. It might be our jobs, our upbringing, our social circles, our desires, the pressure to fit in or the fear of missing out. Maybe we just think His laws are outdated or too restrictive for modern life.

But the moment we start using our good intentions or personal logic as a pass to ignore the parts of God’s Word we’d rather not follow, we’ve missed the heart of it all:

God’s laws are gifts meant for our own good. 

The real issue

If right and wrong were ultimately just social constructs—arbitrary labels we attached to certain actions—then they would be fluid, subjective and ultimately forgettable. But when God declares a behavior to be wrong, He does so with purpose.

God’s commandments, such as those found in Exodus 20, aren’t just a cold list of dos and don’ts. They’re a reflection of how life is meant to function. Think of them as forming the one and only road map for joy—or the framework for human flourishing. Obeying His commandments brings blessing; disobeying them brings consequences.

Chaos. Violence. Moral collapse. That’s the result of widespread disobedience. When sin goes unchecked and compounds, we’re the ones who suffer.

God wants us to learn from that example:

Disobedience—even when wrapped in good intentions—distances us from the very source of life, joy and peace. 

Moses made this plea to Israel: “See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil, in that I command you today to love the LORD your God, to walk in His ways, and to keep His commandments, His statutes, and His judgments, that you may live and multiply; and the LORD your God will bless you in the land which you go to possess” (Deuteronomy 30:15-16).

The call to obey God was never about imposing a burden on people. It was about extending a lifeline. The choice laid before the Israelites was stark but simple: follow God’s laws and receive blessings, or ignore God’s laws and suffer the consequences.

We face the same choice today.

Sin isn’t part of the plan

God is serious about people understanding how sin devastates us and others. He’s so serious, in fact, that He instituted the death penalty. The Bible says, “For the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23) and “The soul who sins shall die” (Ezekiel 18:20). Some will think that’s harsh and unreasonable, but is it? 

Let’s think this through.

The goal of God’s plan is to welcome humanity into eternity with Him as His spiritual sons and daughters—a future defined by everlasting joy, peace and unity. But none of those things can exist if sin is in the picture. 

Sin undermines everything God intends—it breeds suffering, fosters violence and leaves behind grief and bitterness. 

Sin undermines everything God intends—it breeds suffering, fosters violence and leaves behind grief and bitterness. And so God draws a line. Not because He wants to see anyone die, but because He refuses to compromise the future He’s preparing for His family. God won’t tolerate anything—or anyone—disturbing the harmony He envisions in His everlasting kingdom.

Revelation 21 is clear on that: “But there shall by no means enter it anything that defiles” (verse 27, emphasis added).

So, only those who embrace God’s vision—who see the destructive nature of sin and strive to steer clear of it—will be part of that future. The invitation is open to mankind, but the standard remains: sin has no place in God’s Kingdom. 

And what about those who reject that vision—who, when they discover God doesn’t accept their motives and justifications, ultimately shake their fists at God and persist in a spiritually damaging way of life? The only merciful thing God can do is bring that life to an end. To preserve peace, God must remove the source that threatens it.

That doesn’t sound like a power-hungry God who’s eager to kill. It sounds like a loving Father who cares enough about His people to be uncompromising about sin because of where it leads. This is the God who sees the full picture.

Do we?

Taking a step back

When we zoom out on what sin really is, the reasons it’s never okay become much clearer. It doesn’t matter if you’re stealing something to feed yourself; sin is fundamentally and irrevocably wrong. It can’t be justified—ever. 

It harms us spiritually, drives a wedge between us and God, and can trigger a downward spiral capable of toppling not only ourselves, but others as well. 

Sure, in this life obeying God sometimes means paying a short-term, physical price. There are occasions when in order to be faithful we have to sacrifice—be it our comfort, our convenience or our desires. That’s the reality.

And if we’re facing hunger, instead of stealing, we can go to our merciful God and seek solutions that don’t break His wonderful laws.

There’s assurance in this: God honors our efforts to follow His instructions. He promises that He will always take care of our needs when we put Him first in our lives (Matthew 6:33-34).

God absolutely knows our hearts—but that truth should lead us to a greater sense of accountability, not shallower excuses.

Date Posted: October 27, 2025